


Prisoner

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Handcuffs, NSFW, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 05:11:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11456679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: R/O where the reader is hunting a coven of witches and she steals something from the British Men of Letters. Ketch comes after her. AND Can I please request a fic for your BMOL marathon? If I may, I’d like to request a fic where Ketch have rough sex, maybe angry sex? Thank you <3





	Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was written for @spnkinkbingo. I hope this qualifies as a dark fic. I feel like I don’t tend to write things that are too dark, but I tried!

Warnings: Language, smut, hair pulling, handcuffs, oral, orgasm denial, spanking, public sex (but no one is around), dom/sub, mentions of torture

Fic:

Sneaking out of the British Men of Letters compound with the weapon you’d stolen was easy, almost too easy. You’d been able to hide from any guards that were patrolling and you didn’t once run into Mick Davies or Arthur Ketch. No alarms had gone off and no one tried to stop you. It was almost like they wanted you to steal the damn thing.

Despite being curious about the lack of security, you don’t hang around to ask questions. You sneak back through the fence and run to your car, the weapon in hand. From what you’d learned, it was a bomb of sorts and when it went off, it sucked the magic out of any being within a fifty foot radius. Any witch close enough would lose their powers, making them easier to kill.

With the weapon safely placed in the passenger’s seat, you head off to where the witch coven was hiding out. The drive wasn’t long, thankfully. If you got this over quickly, maybe you’d be able to return the weapon before anyone noticed it was missing. Grabbing the weapon from the passenger’s seat and a gun and a knife from your trunk, you head inside. Tonight was the full moon and this was when the witches would cast their spell.

Sneaking into their hideout, you follow the sound of chanting. You find ten witches positioned in a circle, candles and moonlight providing the only light in the room. The ten of them chant in unison and you know you need to stop this quickly before they finish the spell. Pushing a button on the side of the weapon you’d stolen, you activate it and toss it into the circle of witches. You watch as the weapon seems to become a black hole. The witches scream, light emanating from their eyes and mouths as the weapon seems to suck the life from them. Some of them instantly age and fall dead to the ground. Others you have to gank yourself.

By the time it’s all over, the ten witches are dead and the weapon looks as if it had never even been touched. You smirk to yourself as you bend down to pick up the weapon, tossing it into the air and catching it in the palm of your hand again. You slip it into your jacket pocket as you stand up straight. As you turn to leave, you run straight into the solid frame of Arthur Ketch.

“Did you really think you could steal from us and not be punished?” Ketch asks you in his posh accent.

“I just took out ten witches on my own,” you tell him, “I didn’t think you’d mind me borrowing it for a couple hours.”

“Borrowing and taking without permission are two different things, Love,” Ketch tells you. He pushes you back against the wall and wraps his hand around your throat. “We don’t take kindly to thieves,” he informs you, “Now hand it over.” You knew you should be terrified of the situation, but something about him holding you against the wall with his hand wrapped around your throat made heat pool in your core.

“I was going to bring it back,” you tell him, “You just didn’t give me a chance.” His fingers tighten around your throat.

“I said, hand it over,” he growls, his face mere centimeters from yours. He holds out his free hand and curls his fingers, gesturing for you to hand the weapon over. Struggling for breath, you reach into your pocket and pull out the weapon, handing it to Ketch. “Good girl,” Ketch praises, “Now come along.”

Ketch releases your throat and fists his hand roughly into your hair, dragging you along with him. “Ow!” you shout, grasping at his hand and trying to get him to loosen his grip.

“Stop struggling,” he insists, “It will only make things worse.” Despite his warnings, you continue to resist. You knew you shouldn’t, but a part of you wanted to egg him on, to see how far you could push him before he snapped. Ever since you met him, you’d wanted him and you suspected he wanted you too. It was only a matter of time before something happened between the two of you.

“Let me go!” you shout, “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Stupid girl,” Ketch hisses as he slams your back up against the side of his car, “You refuse to join us, defy us at every turn, and now you steal from us? We have a way of dealing with hunters who go rogue.” He grabs your wrists roughly and holds them with one hand as he pulls a pair of handcuffs from a pocket inside his suit jacket. He slaps them on your wrists and makes sure they’re tight.

“Handcuffs, nice touch,” you tease as he pulls you away from the car by the chain between your wrists.

“Shut up,” he growls.

“Just take your damn weapon and let me go,” you tell him, “I’ll never steal anything from the British Men of Letters ever again, I promise.”

“Get in,” Ketch demands as he opens the passenger’s side door, but you don’t budge, “Don’t make me force you.”

“If you do anything to hurt me, the Winchesters will find out,” you warn him.

“Do you think you can use them to frighten me?” Ketch asks, grabbing a fistful of your hair again, “I said get in.” He pushes your head down and forces you into the car, slamming the door behind you.

“What are you going to do to me?” you ask him as he slides into the driver’s seat, “Kill me? Throw me into a dungeon? Why don’t you spank me for being such a bad little girl?” Ketch groans at your last comment.

“Say one more word and I’ll gag you,” Ketch warns.

“Ooh, kinky,” you tease. Ketch growls and pulls the pocket square from his suit, balling it up. He grabs your chin and forces your mouth open, shoving the pocket square into your mouth so that you can’t speak.

“Finally,” Ketch sighs contentedly, “Peace and quiet.” He reaches across you and buckles your seatbelt, saying that he’d prefer to keep you alive at least until he got you back to the compound.

Buckling his own seatbelt, he brings the car to life and turns up his music. As he drives, you work on getting the pocket square out of your mouth. Turning your head toward your window, you spit it out silently, making sure he wouldn’t notice. Next, you unbuckle your seatbelt and reach across the seat, placing your hand on Ketch’s thigh.

“Bloody Hell, what do you think you’re doing?” Ketch asks angrily. He swerves, pulling the car to the side of the road and cutting off the car.

“Tell me to stop,” you tell him as you slide your hands up his thigh, but he doesn’t, “I know you want me, Mr. Ketch.” He groans as you palm him through his trousers.

“Get out of the car,” he demands.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, his cock stirring to life beneath your hand. You’re worried you’d misjudged his intentions towards you and that he would leave you stranded on the side of the road.

“I said, get out,” he repeats. Without waiting for you to do as he had ordered, he gets out of the car and walks around to your side, pulling the door open for you.

“Such a gentleman,” you comment as you step out of the car.

“You’ll soon see that my chivalry only extends so far,” Ketch warns you.

“I hope that’s a promise,” you tease. Raking your eyes over him, you smirk as you spot the bulge growing in his pants.

“Get on your knees,” Ketch commands. He hooks two fingers beneath your chin, making sure your gaze stays on his as you drop to your knees obediently. “Good girl,” he praises. Pulling his hand from you, he unbuckles his belt and opens the front of his pants. You wet your lips as he frees his half hard cock.

Without waiting for his permission, you lean forward. Taking his length in your hands, you begin leaving wet, open mouth kisses against him, making him groan. He begins to grow harder in your hands as you stroke, kiss, and lick.

“Good girl,” Ketch praises, his voice rough. His arousal sparks your own and you press your thighs together for friction. Ketch fists his hand in your hair as you wrap your lips around his tip, sucking lightly. Cupping his balls in your hand, you take him deeper into the heat of your mouth, teasing the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue. “That’s it,” Ketch groans, “So good at this.” His praises spur you on and you only wanted to hear more.

Humming around him, you cause his hips to buck forward, pushing his length deeper into your mouth. His tip hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag, but you encourage him to keep going. You hollow your cheeks and suck harder as Ketch’s hand holds your head in place. He thrusts into your mouth, chasing his high relentlessly. Your eyes begin to water as you look up at him through your lashes.

Suddenly, Ketch pulls himself from your mouth with a loud pop. “Stand up,” he commands. Reaching down, he grabs the chain between your wrists and yanks you up from the ground. He pulls you to the front of his car and turns you to face the hood.

“Is this how you punish all the hunters who go rogue?” you ask him. Ketch growls as he pushes himself up against your back, his hard cock prodding your ass through the material of your jeans.

“Who said this was part of your punishment?” Ketch asks.

“I stole from you,” you answer, “Surely you’re not going to reward me for doing something as despicable as that.” His hands slide down your body until he reaches the button of your jeans, popping them open easily.

“Maybe this is me taking what I want before I’m forced to reprimand you for what you’ve done,” Ketch suggests. He slips his hand into the front of your jeans, fingers teasing you through the material of your panties. “Apparently I’m not the only one who wants this,” Ketch teases you as he runs his fingers along your cloth covered slit, “You’ve soaked right through your panties, Love.”

“If you want me so badly, then why don’t you shut up and fuck me?” you suggest.

“Where are your manners?” Ketch asks, “I didn’t hear you say ‘please.’” Ketch pushes your panties to the side and slides two fingers through your slick folds before rubbing circles against your clit.

“You expect me to beg?” you laugh, “Keep dreaming.”

“You’re my prisoner and if you want me to give you the pleasure you so desperately want, you’re going to ask nicely,” Ketch tells you. He dips his finger inside you before pulling it back again. “I can feel how badly you want me, Love. All you have to do is say one simple little word,” Ketch adds. As he teases you, his free hand slides up beneath your shirt and grasps your breast, groping you through the flimsy material of your bra.

“I’m not going to beg,” you inform him even as your hips rock toward his hand in a silent plea. You fist your hands, wishing they were free of the handcuffs.

“You will soon enough,” Ketch replies. As he speaks, he pushes two fingers deep inside your needy pussy, curling and scissoring them inside you. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan that Ketch threatened to elicit from you. He grinds himself against you as he finger fucks you, telling you how much better his cock would feel inside you, if only you said one little word.

You continue to refuse Ketch’s demand and Ketch continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, slowly building you toward your high. He whispers words of encouragement and praise in your ear, the sound of his voice driving you wild. Just as you’re about to reach your peak, Ketch pulls his fingers from you. You whine in discontent as you give him an angry look over your shoulder.

“Say it, Love,” Ketch insists as he brings his wet fingers to his lips and sucks your juices from them. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him. Your brain was telling you not to give in and beg, but the aching between your legs was clouding your thoughts.

“Please,” you say, finally breaking down.

“Now, now, Love,” Ketch chides, “That wasn’t convincing in the least. Try again”

You groan and the smug smirk that seem to be plastered on his face ninety-nine percent of the time returns. “Please?” you try again, phrasing it as a question.

“Please what?” Ketch questions.

“You know what,” you answer, irritated. The man knew exactly what he was doing and it was frustrating as Hell.

“No need to be so hostile,” Ketch informs you. Pulling his hand from your breast, he fists it in your hair and tugs hard enough to tilt your head back. “Now, tell me exactly what you want,” Ketch demands, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“Surely you can figure that out on your own,” you tease him, pushing your hips back against him. Ketch groans and finally gives in.

“You’re going to feel so good around my cock,” Ketch grunts. His hands roughly push down your pants and panties as he taps the toe of his shoe to the insides of your feet, encouraging you to spread your legs for him. You oblige him, spreading your legs as wide as they’ll go with your pants and panties still around your ankles.

Ketch hand splays between your shoulder blades and pushes you forward so that you’re bent over the hood of his car; the cold touch of metal is muted by the layers of clothing still covering your upper body. He was by no means gentle and you loved it. A small cry passes your lips as Ketch brings his hand down against your ass cheek, leaving your skin stinging. Pressing your cheek to the hood of his car, you watch him over your shoulder as you wiggle your ass. He wets his lips before raising his hand and spanking you again, harder this time.

He brings his hand down against you several more times until you’re moaning his name. Reaching above your head with your cuffed hands, you search for something to hold onto, but find only the smooth hood of Ketch’s car.

“I believe you’re enjoying your punishment entirely too much,” Ketch tells you. He grasps your ass cheeks in his hands, rubbing away the sting. “Perhaps I should try other methods,” he suggests.

You watch as he pushes his pants and boxers down around his knees and takes his thick cock in his hand. Taking a step closer, he presses his leaking tip to your slick entrance and runs it through your folds. He mutters words of praise for how wet you are and how ready you are for him. The teasing has your body shuddering with need. Your walls flutter each time he teases your clit with his cock.

“Fuck me,” you groan, pushing your hips back in hopes that he’ll finally give you what you need.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Ketch teases.

“Ketch, fuck me, please,” you moan.

“That’s better,” Ketch says with a smirk. He positions himself at your entrance and pushes into you with one rough thrust. You cry out as he buries himself inside you, your walls stretching around his cock. One of his hands wraps tight around your hip, the other moving up to press against your head, holding you down against the hood of his car.

His pace is nothing less than what you expected, rough and demanding. He holds you in place as he pounds into you, each thrust causing his car to rock. Ketch’s grunts and groans of praise cause your stomach to twist and coil as pressure builds inside you.

“That’s it,” Ketch grunts, “You take me so well.” The slap of skin on skin fills the night air along with grunts, moans, and the chirping of crickets. You wished that you were facing him and that your hands were free; you’d love to run your hands through his hair and drag your nails down his back, to feel his skin beneath your fingertips. Maybe you could suggest it if this ever happened again. For now, you’d just have to settle for Ketch bending you over the hood of his car and fucking you into oblivion.

“Arthur,” you gasp as he shifts his hips and changes his angle so that his cock drags along your g-spot. His rhythm falters and his grip on you tightens as he hears his name fall from your lips.

“So good for me,” Ketch groans, his pace becoming erratic. Your walls tighten around him as he draws you closer and closer to climax.

Ketch grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs hard, pulling you up so that your elbows rest against the hood of his car. The new angle gives you a view of the world behind you in the reflection of the windshield. The full moon looms overhead, giving you just enough light to make out the deserted road and the nearby trees. Ketch’s form moves in the glass. His jaw is clenched tight and his eyes are already focused on your face, taking in your expression of pleasure.

“I want you to cum first, Love,” Ketch instructs. The hand he has on your hip slides around to the front of your body, fingers quickly finding your clit. He rubs harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves in time with his erratic thrusts. The feeling quickly sends you reeling.

“Arthur!” you cry out as the pressure in your stomach finally releases. Your orgasm hits you hard, your body shuddering and your knees going weak as your walls clamp down around his throbbing cock. Ketch holds you up, his arm wrapped around your torso. He groans your name as he continues to fuck you, chasing his own pleasure.

Three more deep thrusts have him following you into the precipice. “Y/N!” he grunts loudly as he pumps his cum inside you, hot ribbons filling you with each pulse of his cock. His hips rock against you as he rides out his high and prolongs your own. Your walls squeeze him as the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you, milking him for all he’s worth.

“Fuck,” you whisper, tilting your head forward so that your forehead rests against the hood of his car. Ketch gives you a moment to recover before pulling himself from you, his cum dripping down onto your thighs.

He stands you up, roughly pulling you back against him so that your body is slotted against his. “You are exquisite,” Ketch tells you, his breath caressing the shell of your ear, “It’s unfortunate that you’re a thief and your punishment still needs to be enacted.”

“What do you plan on doing with me?” you ask, swallowing hard. The reality was sinking in that Ketch was simply doing as he was told and still planned on taking you back to the compound. Fucking him didn’t buy you freedom. This had merely been a pit stop and it didn’t mean he would let you go.

“The higher ups wish to see you imprisoned and tortured,” Ketch tells you, “There’s nothing I can do to change that, but I do hold some sway with them. Perhaps I could have you put in my charge and do with you as I see fit.” He moves away from you and begins dressing himself as if this interaction were the most natural thing in the world.

Even after what had just happened, Ketch was cold. You knew what this man was capable of and if the people in charge told him to torture you, he’d do exactly that. If his orders were to kill you, he wouldn’t hesitate.

“Arthur,” you begin, hoping that he would let you plead your case, but Ketch stops you right away. 

“Don’t call me that,” Ketch demands, “Now get dressed and get back in the car.” You meant nothing to him; you were his prisoner and nothing more.


End file.
